Beati pauperi spiritu
by JessannahHannessieofDoooom
Summary: Of an expected pair and unexpected love.


Disclaimer - The Harry Potter series (unfortunately) belongs to J.K.Rowling and not me. Parts of the letter were inspired by A Knight's Tale and therefore aren't mine eitha. Sigh. If Harry, Hermioneand Draco were mine they'd be my chocolate love-lemmingtons basted in coconut. XD Draco is the spatula to my pancake - he flips me off baby yeah!111!111

Enjoy!

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It was a brittle, scorching, splendiferous June day. The air currents ululated above the harsh, barren space that was the front lawn of the Granger estate. Inside, Hermione was dutifully folding the laundry that her evil, abusive father had made her deal with for the third time that year. It was always her that did the laundry when the maid had a day off, never her sister or four-year old brother. No, no, no, always the workhorse, Hermione the one, who never has anyone better to do because she doesn't deserve a social life. Well, no more, thought Hermione. No more scathing bands of parents steel encircling her, pinioning her epherial wings. They would soon be broken - shattered with the chain-cutter of her very own teenage upheaval as she showed the world who the REAL Hermione was.

A shrill cry permeated the laden air. (A/N do u like my story yet? Keep reading!)

"Herrrmmiiiiiooooneeeee!"

It was the distressed call of her sister, Quartz.

"Heerrrmie ham, where's my yellow denim hotpants? Have you stolen it?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, feeling nothing but the harsh gashing teeth of rotten discontempt for her spoilt younger sibling.

"It's where you left it – on the kitchen counter! I wouldn't steal it, it's too big for me anyway."

Hermione had been working out during the holidays. She had become buff and trimmed as she bench-pressed the pounds away. As the sweat had dribbled into her nose, eyes, ears and mouth during those long sweaty nights she had only thought of the beautiful, lithe body she was soon to possess. And possess it she did. Stronger than any of her male friends, but very slender and feminine with her newly inflated breasts and buff elegant curves in all the right places, she had changed.

And it wasn't just her body that had changed. (A/N I don't like this bit)

Her was no longer unruly and frizzy – now tamed with a spell she had created, it hung in a shimmering dark, ebony chestnut curtain down to her just above her shapely ass. Oh yes – Hermione knew how to play to her assets. She had new trendy clothes from Calvin's Klein and Hott Topic that showed the world what a dark and trendy gothic punk gansta she was. (A/N Aren't goth/punks the kewlest? But I don't lik ganstas dat mutch)

Her eyes were still the same though – still that same lyrical burnt toffee colour, those coffee depths singing of deep feeling and mysterious sorrows. She turned her deep orbs towards the stairs and slowly, like a poised viper ready to flee, she barraged up the stairs. She flew into her room and slammed the door before her unfair parents could fill her day with more demenial drudgery, throwing herself onto the bed. It felt like her wings were broken, raped and ravaged by her torturous existence. (A/N I feel like this too.)

She stared down at the endless cuts that criss-crossed her wrists and arms, and legs – she remembered the last time she had drawn the jagged tip of her mother's sewing scissors across her quivering, tender flesh. She remembered how good she felt as she eviscerated it, at the spurting rushes of dribbling scarlet that appeared like tiny fountains on her sliced skin and puddled around her feet, it was such a near orgasmic sense of release. So many cuts, so many cuts on the surface of her soul.

Suddenly, suddenly, suddenly a loud banging pregnated the air. She turned to the side. It was Ron's bird, Pigwideon, who was ramming his head on the glass.

"Oh! Pig!" She cried, her full lips forming a perfect O around the sound of her gently quivering voice. She raced toward the avian messenger and took the letter he was carrying. It read …

_My dearest Hermione._

_It seemsfunny that I haven'tseenyou since the last full moon. I've seen the moon again, but nothing of your pretty face. We should hang out some time in the holidays. You remind me of the Bible, when God smote the Sodomites. When Cain asked for more time. Because you see, if I could ask for one thing it would be to make this day of your beauty last forever._

_How are you? It's really boring at the Burrow. Fred and George slipped dead lizards into the stuffing of our last chicken, which was like, totally funny. _

_Harry told me that I didn't know anything of his sufferings when I asked him what the time was. Do you think he's worried about something?_

_Hope guides me. It's what gets me through the day. The hope that the next time I look apon your face it will not be the last time I see it. So we'll meet up in Diagon alley to get our school stuff before next term, eh?_

_Eternally yours_

_Ronald J. Weasley_

"Oh, poor misguided Ron." Hermione simpered. "I got my school supplies weeks ago when I got my new cool hairdo and my makeover." (A/N Can u imagine how Kewl it would be to get a makeover in the wizarding world!1! Liek, OMG.)

She put aside the letter to reply later, frowning prettily. Sometimes she wondered if Ron had ever really gotten over their whirlwind romance earlier that year. She shook her head, making her luscious strawberry-blonde hair swing around her heart-shaped face. No, it was probably just her paranoid imagination.

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Hey now you've read it I hope you liked it and loved it cos I love it and I will love you too if you review. If you give a nice review I think you'll go to heaven! ;)


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